


The True Confessions of a Mismatched Four

by EquusofEquusNanashi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquusofEquusNanashi/pseuds/EquusofEquusNanashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when four friends are Hogwarts-bound and are each sorted into a different house? How will they survive inter-house rivalries and a dark lord who is set on turning them to his side?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ~Prologue~

**Author's Note:**

> So this is another collaboration between a few friends of mine and myself. I just want to warn you that all that you see here was written when I was in ninth grade. Some of the original characters are the same as in my Guyver story: Evolution.

After slouching home at 3:00 on a typical Tuesday, Leslie Mei was utterly… bored. She dumped her backpack next to a chair and washed her hands, wishing for something interesting in her life.

"Hi, Grandpa," she droned as her grandfather noticed her.

"Mmm," he answered vaguely in Chinese.

Leslie went to the pile of mail on the kitchen table to sort. Anything to prolong the time before she had to do homework. Dental appointment. Bills. Win $1,000,000,000! Birthday invitation for her sister. And then…

A strange looking letter had her name on it. It looked like parchment, but that was silly; no one used parchment anymore. And the address – the address was written so precisely it was comical. "To Leslie Mei in the window facing west on the second floor…" She opened the thick, rough envelope carefully, wondering what kind of prank this was. Who would want a laugh that badly?

In green shining ink, a letter stated that she had been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She laughed. Uncertainly, but with gusto. Who would want to prank her that badly? Frowning, she absentmindedly smoothed out the creases and read over it again. It looked so…real. Whoever made this certainly knew what one would look like. It made her uneasy.I'll think about it later, she decided, tucking it in a book and heading towards the stairs with her backpack.

As she did so, Leslie idly thought, It's not even the right time. School's already started. I'm thirteen. It's just not possible. But it came back to her, continually, and bothered her. And as she started her dead-boring algebra homework, Leslie admitted to herself that she hoped the letter was real.

* * *

 

Meanwhile in the city of Edina, another letter was delivered.

Amy Kuller was picked up from school in a bad mood.

"Hi mom. Lets go home. I have way to much homework tonight."

"Fine, but first I have to run a few errands."

Amy grumbled to herself. She knew what this meant. At this rate, we're not going to be home until 6:30. The first stop they made was to the post office, to pick up the mail from the families P.O. box. The van pulled up in front of the building, and Amy jumped out of the car, keys jingling as she half jogged into the post office. Then she did a double take. Did I just see owls? … No. It couldn't have been. She walked the rest of the way to their box, and pulled out the mail, sorting it as she had always done while walking back to the car.

It was almost ritual that she checked to see if anything had come for her, and usually it didn't, but today was different. Today, she saw a funny looking envelope with her name on it. She ran back to the car, tossed the rest of the mail on the floor and started to look at her letter. It was so strange, and the address was so specific. She curiously opened the letter, reading the first few lines that were neatly written in shimmering green ink. Hogwarts? Yeah, right! She thought to herself and tucked the letter away. The entire ride to the bank, the grocery store, the pharmacy, and finally home, she couldn't stop thinking about the letter.

* * *

 

A little later, in the street of 8th avenue, South St. Paul, yet another letter was delivered.

"Oh, just SHUT UP! Sierra, don't forget to bring in your instrument!" Emilia Seery yelled at her sister as she slammed the door to her fathers Ion shut.

"Emilia get the mail!" her father yelled as he walked into the house.

"Yeah! Get the mail Emilia!" Sierra snottily yelled.

Sigh, why must I always be the one to always get the mail, or put out the trash? Emilia thought as she sulked down the driveway, jumping over sinkholes and looking over at her mother's garden, finally turning and opening the cow mailbox's mouth.

Walking back up to the house, she sorted the mail. Two for Auntie, One for Donald, American girl for Sierra and bills for dad. Stopping by the table, Emilia dropped off the mail.

No mail for me… again, Emilia thought as she walked over to her room and dropped her backpack onto the cluttered floor.

Scanning her room to make sure no one had been in there, something caught her eye. A small envelope with green print was lying on her pillow.

What is that? She thought, jumping onto the bed and picking it up.

 

_To Miss E. Seery_

_Last bedroom with plants, 1242 8th avenue, South St. Paul_

"What is this? It looks like a Hogwarts card. I'll read it later," Emilia told the room as she threw the letter onto her side table and took out her homework. "I'm not even the right age. Why would I get something like that?"

* * *

 

Greta Gage slammed the car door shut after she got home from cross-country, knowing that she had far too much homework to do. She climbed the stairs and entered her bedroom, dropping her bag of running clothes, backpack, and trumpet. She thought she should get started on her geometry, and so she did. She was almost done when she heard a tapping noise on the window. At first she thought it was nothing, but it continued and began to get very annoying. She looked over to the window and saw an owl with a letter in its beak. She walked over to the window and let the owl in. The owl dropped the letter on the bed and left.

"To Greta Gage, the first bedroom on the left on 5318 Annie Drive, Edina Minnesota."

At that moment, Greta started freaking out. She ran into one of her brother's room's and started shouting that she had been accepted into Hogwarts, he didn't care. The rest of the family didn't believe her either. But she believed it was true. Or was it some horrible prank, and she was stupid enough for believing it at all.

* * *

 

And so the four girls received their letters. Each weren't entirely sure they believed in it, but each, at the exact same time that exact same night, had a sudden pang of strong feeling- a cross between déjà vu, loss, and a certain removed sense. For one second, each was jubilant and devastated yet with the strange feeling that their life was a fake- and then it was gone. They continued washing dishes, or doing homework, or eating dinner, never suspecting that very soon they would know the meaning of that pang, and it would change the rest of their lives in a way they couldn't even begin to imagine. It all started with- well, curious minds, a sense of adventure, and a self-centered teacher with a strong memory charm.

 


	2. ~Chapter 1: Finally at Hogwarts~

She had been having dreams, more and more like real life than anything, and real life was falling apart. Twice this week She had the dream that she was in an infirmary of a strange place, and twice she seemed to see the world shimmer at the edges. The very color seemed to be draining from the real world. Every day seemed foggier and foggier, until fantasy and reality were impossible to separate. Finally, when she was walking in the school hallway one day, she just collapsed. Except-

-she actually woke up! She sat up suddenly in the infirmary from her dreams, feeling slightly dizzy and very confused. Blinking, she realized there was a figure standing at the end of her bed, a tall, silver haired figure.

"DUMBLEDORE?" Leslie screamed, clapping her hands to her mouth. This couldn't be a dream, could it? Who would dream of waking up? Surely it was, though, this couldn't be real!

"I see by your surprised face you have forgotten me," he said pleasantly. "How have you fared Miss Mei?" Before she could answer, he continued, "And Miss Kuller, Miss Seery, Miss Gage?"

Leslie realized, sitting around her, were Amy, Emilia, and Greta. This must be a dream, they were all thinking, but how? It seems so real! I can see and smell and feel everything! This is no ordinary dream!

"Contrary to what you might believe, this is not a dream." He gave no time for any of the girls to respond, not that they could form any sort of comprehensible response anyway.

"Please stay silent a little longer while I explain this strange circumstance. Two years ago, the four of you came to Hogwarts, just as the third year students are now here. You received your schooling in the-"

"But we couldn't have!" Greta protested, a little late (it took her some time to absorb this unbelievable fact). "We- we're muggle born! And we go to a muggle school! Plus, -"

"If you would please let me finish," Dumbledore said calmly, blue eyes twinkling. "The story gets more interesting. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. You received your schooling in the first year same as everyone else, and I must say; you were all exceptionally good students. And certainly unusual too, a four-way friendship with one in each house. Unheard of! That matter besides, the f—"

"We were all in a different house?" Amy interrupted.

"Miss Kuller," Dumbledore retorted, and fell silent.

"Sorry," Amy replied sheepishly, "but does that mean… were we still… friends?"

"Yes," he said swiftly. "Please, classes will start soon, and I must give you a full account before you are off. The four of you can sort out your issues later!" Seeing the headmaster's now slightly impatient face, they shut up. "That matter aside," Dumbledore continued briskly, "the first major event in this retelling of life at Hogwarts was at the end of the second year. You will know from your memory, I think, a certain Harry Potter series? No questions for now please, ladies. Professor Lockhart had the defense against the dark arts position, you will remember. This was also the time during which the chamber of secrets had been opened. Unfortunately, during a succession of events, you four realized an important secret of professor Lockhart's. And… I will not defend his behavior, but he cast a powerful memory charm on all of you, so strong, it erased your entire lifetime of memories."

"HIM!" Leslie shouted, unable to control herself.

"Just a moment longer, the story is almost finished," Dumbledore cut in. " We didn't try to break the charm, for fear it would destroy your minds, so a fake memory was implanted. In other words, you have lived your entire life again in the few months there was no school. As it is known, though, magic cannot be learned through dreams or false memories, so you have 'lived' the life of a muggle until now. However, as you have now woken up, you are free to amuse yourselves as you wish until school starts, officially, in five hours. I suggest you re-explore the castle, re-acquaint yourselves with old friends, and re-learn lessons with teachers. Thank you ladies. I'll leave you to talk amongst yourselves now."

We were still staring in astonishment.

"Oh! I almost forgot," he turned back to us with a mysterious smile, " your secret is safe. Nobody knows but me and I am but a barmy old headmaster. I am not discouraging midnight adventures either. Good day, ladies!" He said with a charming wink as he swept out of the room.

All four girls looked around at each other, then their eyes fell upon Amy, whose face was turning red then, blue.

"Amy! What's wrong? Breathe!" Leslie yelled.

"I'm trying not to scream," whispered Amy. Greta then exploded with excitement.

"It's all real then! We're all witches! OMG!" Leslie was the one to bring order to the group again.

"Now that we have an answer, we need to figure some things out. Like, wait… where's Emilia?" The other two girls went into a panic.

"Would you guys SHUT UP?" came a voice from the hallway. "I'm right here! We've got some exploring to do, and less than 5 hours to do it!"

 


	3. ~Chapter 2: Exploration~

The four girls ran out of the room in a hurry, and not finding any shoes, scampered through the corridors with bare feet.

"Who's there?" cried an anxious voice from right beside them.

"Ahh!" Leslie cried back, leaping away from the spot, then looked closer and realized that it was a talking portrait. "Oh, Its you."

"What?" asked the anxious voice.

"I'm a student," She told it, "I've just gotten out of the infirmary. Good day to you, and I've got to go!"

"Good day!" She heard from behind her.

They slid down from one banister to another, ran the halls with burning impatience, and peered in every room, occasionally calling out an embarrassed "Sorry, Professor McGonagall!" or "Oh my god- SHUT THE DOOR!"

Next, they visited the famous obstacle course under the trap door on the third floor, now deserted and musty. They knocked on Moaning Myrtle's stall, and conversed with her about death (but couldn't open the chamber of secrets no matter how much they hissed at it. Maybe it was now sealed shut?). They watched Hagrid's hut from a distance, but had no time to visit him. They looked out from each window, saw each of the house banners, and ran about the quidditch field. (They thought about touring the ministry of magic in secret, but decided it would not be wise.) Finally, after exploring the entire castle save the Room of Requirement, with ten minutes left, they came to the stone gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office.

"Now what?" Greta asked flatly.

"Lemon drops? Cockroach clusters? Cotton candy?" Leslie shouted at them, but nothing happened.

"Open sesame?" tried Amy. "Abracadabra?"

"Knock-knock!" Emilia said. The others looked at her strangely.

"Ooh, who's there?" asked the gargoyle on the left.

"Shut up!" the gargoyle on the right shouted at him.

"See, I know my way around," Emilia said smugly, nodding. She stepped forward toward the left-side gargoyle and said "Water."

"Water who?"

"I said SHUT UP! We're supposed to let people in who have the password, not listen to knock-knock jokes!"

"Water who?" The gargoyle on the left persisted.

" 'Water' we here for if you won't let us in? C'mon, lets go," Emilia replied, setting off by herself and leaving the rest of them dumbstruck.

"Nooo!" the left gargoyle shouted. "Come back! Do you have any more? Any more knock-knock jokes?"

"Let us in." Emilia said coldly.

"Calm down, we don't need to go in," Leslie told her.

"What do you mean!" Emilia fumed. "After five hours, we've only gotten hopelessly tangled in the maze of Hogwarts, only by luck exploring different areas! We don't even know where our common rooms are, and they're all in different places! WE NEED TO SEE DUMBLEDORE." She turned suddenly and kicked the base of the left gargoyle, taking him by surprise so that he yelped and leaped aside, forcing his twin to jump to the other side.

"Nooo!" both monsters shouted as one, as we rushed through the opening, and managed to get through, except for the hem of Greta's robes, which were caught in the door as it slammed shut.

"Drat!" she cursed, but a moment later, the door reopened and shut right behind her again.

"I take this to mean," said a familiar, pleasant voice, "you have finished exploring the castle? Take a seat ladies," The professor insisted as he raised his wand to conjure up some chairs. The girls plopped down onto the floor, unaware of Dumbledore's intentions. With a hint of amusement at their actions, he put down his wand and joined the girls on the floor.

"Is this a muggle custom you girls learned from your false memories?" Dumbledore asked. The girls realized their misunderstanding, and blushed, as they shook their heads no. "Well then, lets begin."

"I hear footsteps! Is it time for school?" Leslie shouted, leaping up suddenly.

"Please, let me finish," the headmaster insisted. "I still have more to tell the four of you. Now, I hope you have reacquainted yourselves with the castle well enough, but if not, you have wonderful friends in each of your houses to help you. Miss Gage, your common room is on the seventh floor, in the Gryffindor tower. Miss Kuller, your common room is through the door to the right of the main staircase, and down. Ask your Hufflepuff friends to help you. Miss Mei, yours is at the west side of the castle, in the Ravenclaw tower, and Miss Seery, Slytherin's rooms are near the dungeon. I'm afraid that there isn't much time for me to inform you of everything all over again, but please come see me if you are ever in need of assistance."

The four girls looked at each other, completely bewildered and trying to take in this information.

"I believe the sorting has commenced. You may go to your dormitories to unpack your trunks which are already there- quickly!- and then enjoy a hearty feast with the rest of the students in the Great Hall. I really must leave now to, for I realized I was wrong in my assumption. They are waiting for me at the head table. Till a later time, ladies!" And he rushed past us in a swirl of purple robes.

"Where did he say our common rooms were?" Amy asked, completely boggled.

Emilia groaned. "Lets just go watch the sorting. We're sure to get lost otherwise, looking for hidden common rooms around this trickster of a castle."

"Uh, problem," Leslie hinted. "We don't know where the Great Hall is either."

"This is utter crap!" Greta exclaimed. "Why don't we even know our way around the castle in our own story? Lets just apparate there for Merlin's sake!"

"We can't do that on Hogwarts grounds," Amy intoned.

"Didn't you ever read Hogwarts, a History?" Emilia added.

"We'll just have to walk," Leslie said dully, ignoring the now laughing girls and trying very unsuccessfully to draw a map of Hogwarts.

"That's for sure," Amy sighed, recovering from her laughing fit and turning towards Leslie. "What we need is the Marauder's Map."

"Lets steal it from Harry!" Greta shouted, promptly jumping up and accidentally knocking several delicate-looking instruments from Dumbledore's desk.

"We don't know where Harry is," Leslie reminded her.

"Be careful!" Emilia cried, diving to sweep up the shattered debris.

"How do we not know anything? We're making up our own story!" Greta repeated angrily.

"Figures," Amy said miserably.

"Wait," Leslie started slowly, "We're starting our third year?"

"Yeah," Emilia replied distractedly, dumping glass shards and bent metal pieces into the trash.

"And since we're the main characters in this story, the Gryffindor trio must be in the same year as us…"

"Yes?" Greta asked, trying to see why this would help them at the moment.

"That means any minute now, Dumbledore will-"

POOF!

"-appear in this room," continued Leslie, "And professor McGonagall-"

The doors opened and the professor in question burst in.

"-will come in, followed by Harry-"

The boy in question walked in.

"-Oh, and Madame Pomfrey."

The nurse bustled in with a gargantuan block of chocolate and started hammering at it to break off a chunk.

"Ladies, I told you you could leave, did I not?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"Well, um," Amy started, staring at the characters she had only imagined existed in books, "you see-"

"We don't know how to get down to the Great Hall," Leslie finished shortly.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Harry asked in disbelief, turning towards them.

"Apparently, we've lost our memories," Emilia explained, none too patiently. Harry stared at her a while longer.

"Since…when?"

"We have no time to take your crap," Greta snapped. "Where's the Great Hall?"

"Down the hall and to the left, then keep walking," Dumbledore replied pleasantly. "Mr. Potter will meet you there in a moment."

They left his office slowly, while contemplating everything they had learned. Upon arriving at the Great Hall, they dispersed and found seats reluctantly, hoping their friends would be forgiving enough and not ask questions.

 


	4. ~Chapter 3: The Great Hall~

**Greta**

I sat down cautiously at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who was yelling animatedly at the Weasley twins.

"…not legal to test those dreadful candies on first years like that! Once more, and I'll write to your mum!"

Not listening, but paying attention to my steak and mashed potatoes, I quietly started eating.

"AND YOU!" Hermione shouted, whirling at me. I nearly fell off my seat.

"Wh-what?" I spluttered, struggling to right myself. "What are you yelling at me for?"

"You're doing the joke shop too!" Hermione said scathingly. "And I saw you giving sweets to younger children last year. DON'T DO IT AGAIN!"

"Aw, Hermione," Fred whined. "Don't yell at Greta,"

"She hasn't been helping us anyways," George said in a mock admonishing tone. "Where's the stack of forms you said you'd fill out?"

"Yeah, you didn't send us one letter, all summer," Fred added. "And you didn't reply to ours."

I stared at them, dumbstruck.

"You're missing the point," Hermione filled in impatiently. "you're not supposed to test your experiments on others and you're not supposed to start a joke shop!" Luckily, Harry, who had just entered the Great Hall, had diverted her attention.

"Are you… Fred and George?" I asked the redheaded twins blankly. They stared back a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Sure, we are!" Fred said, chuckling. "Do you not know us anymore? Did you finally notice my haircut?"

"You can't be serious," George said in disbelief. "Greta, we met two years ago, remember? You said you wanted to start a joke shop too?"

I looked at them helplessly and said, "No, I don't remember anything. I…lost my memory."

Fred winked. "That's good, that's good, that's very good, you can finally keep a straight face!"

"Fred," George said in an undertone, nudging his brother in the ribs. "I think she's serious. She'd never be able to keep a straight face."

He eventually sobered and studied me carefully. "You really don't remember who we are?"

"Well sort of," I said foolishly, not knowing how to explain the matter. "Dumbledore said… I got hit by a memory charm at the end of last year, along with my friends."

The twins scrutinized me, and satisfied I was telling the truth, asked me in none too polite language who the culprit was.

"Um, I think it was actually Gilderoy Lockhart," I said, thinking, "The professor who-" But the rest of my words were said to empty air, as the twins had shoved back their chairs and started running out the hall.

"Well," I said to myself in awe, "That was weird."

* * *

 

**Amy**

I was sitting at the Hufflepuff table quietly, drinking pumpkin juice, and trying to soak in bits of conversation from students around me.

"…nearly got yelled at again, didn't you? Yeah Snape's like that."

"…Oh, so you were saying…"

"…Did you go to the world cup at all? I heard it was great…"

A friendly looking girl with blond pigtails sat next to me.

"Hi, Amy," she said with a smile. "Do you want to study in the library again this year, ever Wednesday?"

"Um," I said, unsure what to say.

"Its all right if you don't want to," the girl said quickly, misreading my hesitation.

"Its not that," I assured her, "but…I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

The girl stared. "I'm Hannah Abbott, don't you remember?"

"Right, I'm sorry," I said in an embarrassed way.

"So, are you coming?" she pressed, ignoring my attempts to explain.

"Okay," Amy said, wondering what she was getting herself into.

"Great!" Hannah beamed. "See you Wednesday!" and she ran off to talk to her friends.

I looked dejectedly at my plate of roast chicken and peas. How was I to manage through all this when not one person knew I had lost my memory? I wondered how my friends were bearing up. Emilia was untouchable, I knew that much. Greta would just talk it off, and Leslie would probably be in a similar predicament as me. Searching for them at their respective tables I figured that I would be quite unwelcome at any other tables, especially the Slytherins, so I picked at my food and waited for dinner to be over.

* * *

**Emilia**

I sat down at the Slytherin table and everyone turned to glare and jeer at me. Whatever. I don't care what they think. I thought, shrugging, and started heaping food onto my plate.

"Hey, Emilia," Pansy said in a high-pitched giggle. I turned, certain I did not know the ugly, giddy girl in front of her.

"Excuse me?"

Unexpectedly, the girl shrank back. "Nothing." And she continued to whisper and laugh at something with her friends – I knew that something was her – as if no one could hear her.

I began to eat again, nonchalantly avoiding any jeers aimed at me, or any attempts to catch my attention. I was halfway done with my meal when a shy-looking girl with short brown hair sat next to me.

"Hi, Emilia," she said sweetly, while shoving a nearby Slytherin off his chair so she could put her bag in his place. "How are you doing? You don't look very well I'm afraid. Why didn't you write me all this past summer? I thought we could go to diagon alley together to buy books, you know. But since you never answered… How come you're not saying anything Emilia? I never saw you that last day of school last year, where were you? They say you were hanging out with that potter boy and got dragged into the chamber of secrets. It's not true, is it? If he did, I'll-"

"Stop!" I cried. The girl stopped abruptly. "I wasn't dragged off, but I lost my memory," I continued. "And I don't know who you are, but your imbecile chattering hurts my brain!"

The girl was speechless, her eyes as wide as melons. "But, 'meelia…"

"What?" I snapped, turning back to my dinner and trying unsuccessfully to ignore the near rabid girl next to me. I felt her poke me several times, but did my best to ignore it, but my temper was already strained.

"What?" I screamed, as the girl poked me for the fifth time.

"Why, you're just like when I first met you, two years ago!" she exclaimed. "Why are you so mad at me though? Did you say you don't know who I am? I'm Imogen, of course. Don't you recognize me? I could swear you- you really don't know who I am, do you? Oh, gosh, this'll really take some explaining-"

I gave up eating and leaned against the table, putting my fingers to my throbbing temples. "Okay, Imo-"

"Say, you do look different," the utterly squirrelly girl observed. "Did you cut your hair? No, I suppose it was like that last year, now wasn't it? Why are you looking at me like that? I've been meaning to ask you, too, and I think I did, just two minutes ago, where were you, the last week of school? I didn't see you at all! I didn't see you in the common room or dorms, or classes, either, and it was terrible all by myself, especially with Snape! He hated me as usual, though he can't take points away from me, at least, since my house is his house." She giggled, "Oh, what were you going to say?"

I ignored the quizzical looks Imogen was giving me and stood up, striding out of the room without explanation.

"What's gotten into her?" Imogen wondered. "She didn't even eat anything."

* * *

**Leslie**

"Did you draw the map of the crumplehorn snorkback sightings?" a melodious voice asked in my ear.

"What?" I asked, turning calmly, though I had jumped inside, making me suddenly drop the fork I was holding onto my plate with a loud clatter.

"You told me you would draw me a map of all the places crumplehorn snorkbacks were sighted," the dreamy voice repeated, and I recognized that voice to belong to Luna Lovegood.

"Did I…?" I asked, surprised and a little nervous of what other promises I had made, and to what people.

"Yes, you did," She replied in her same misty voice, swinging her scraggly, dirty blond hair over her shoulder so she could fill her plate. "I thought you would remember this sort of thing," She said in a slightly put out voice. What irony, I thought to myself.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I told her, and meant it. "I lost my memory, so the headmaster said, and spent my summer recovering."

She glanced at me swiftly, then said simply," I believe you," and began to eat.

"Oh," I said again, startled. I had been preparing all the evidence and arguments to prove that I had in fact lost my memory, when Luna disarmed me completely by saying in her blunt but calm way that I needn't prove anything.

"Does this mean you have forgotten all your classes, even charms?" she inquired curiously.

"What?" I asked. "Wh-why charms?"

"You used to be best in it, you know," she informed me.

"I…I did?"

"You used to tutor me too," Luna said nostalgically.

"I was?" Great.

"Nearly won us the cup, except Slytherin always cheats, and Gryffindor is always awarded in mountains at the last minute," her voice was less ditzy now. "We haven't won in hundreds of years."

I doubted that, but I said nothing.

"I suppose you'll be needing help, then around the school and the grounds," she noted casually.

"I certainly will," I replied miserably. I stared at the fast appearing custard tarts around the tables and the fish and foul that disappeared just a quickly.

"I'm not very good at any subject," Luna said humbly, "But I could definitely try for my best friend."

I finally caught on, "Oh, could you help me around?"

She brightened considerably, "Of course!"

I smiled at her, glad for one comfort at least. "Will the teachers understand, then?"

Luna considered, "Snape won't."

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 4: The End of the Feast

The four girls met at the large staircase near the entrance of Hogwarts, each feeling worse than they had before.

"I don't know where the twins went," Greta sighed, bewildered.

"I don't remember any promises I made," Amy said in a worried voice.

"I have a chattering ignoramus for my only friend," Emilia growled, massaging her temples.

"You guys," Leslie said, rather cast down, "We'll have a lot of catch up work to do."

All four of them stopped grumbling as it became apparent just how many problems they had.

"We could be screwed over!" Greta cried.

"Oh, the work," moaned Amy.

"I don't even remember enough about my friends to call them chattering ignoramuses," Leslie said unhappily.

"I'm still the most unfortunate," Emilia declared.

Just then, the rest of the students were dismisses from the Great Hall, and rushed out in a massive stampede forcing the girls to separate.

"Can we meet tomorrow?" Amy called over the tumult as she was swept away towards the Hufflepuff common room.

"I don't know if we have any classes together," Leslie yelled to be heard, also fighting the current.

"Let's meet tomorrow morning – before school!" Greta shouted as she followed her peers toward the Gryffindor tower, up the stairs.

"Eight-thirty!" Emilia agreed, "Don't be late!"

 


	6. Chapter 5: The Classes Begin

It was the first day of classes and I was headed to the one place I feared most. To the dungeons for potions class. If my fake memory serves me right, Snape is not the nicest of men to be around.  Watching my step as I went along, I let out a yelp when something sharp poked me in either side. I turned around to see Emilia, giddily laughing at my moment of confusion.

“Hey,” She said “Where are you going? I’ve got potions.”

“Umm, Yeah. Me too. I’m kinda nervous about having Snape this year though, I mean, I know I’ve had him before, but I obviously don’t remember.

“I think I’m gonna like him. I’ve always liked the strict sub’s isn’t the muggle world. Oops, I mean, my memory.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure this time ‘meelia.” I told her blatantly. As we came upon a large door at the end of the hall, I announced. “This must be it,” and I pushed open the door.

The room was dark, lit by dim candles dispersed throughout the room. The seats in the front of the class were filled mostly with Slytherins. Those that were already or were trying to get on Snape’s good side. The back was also filled, but with slacker types and those who were too afraid to sit any closer. Me and Emilia chose seats next to each other in the middle of the class room. Not more than a few minutes after our entry, Snape entered dramatically, and started speaking. This is just as I’d always imagined, I thought to myself. Only, its better!

“Ms. Kuller-“ Snape interrupted my thought process, “would you care to pay attention when you are spoken to?”

“Um, yes sir-mr-professor-“ I stumbled and flattered over my words.

“I repeat, when is it necessary to replace dried roots from fresh roots in apportion?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know. No one had told him about my situation and I wasn’t about to tell him.

“I don’t know.”

He looked disgusted. “Amy, you should remember you wrote an essay on this subject as extra credit last year,” He said, belittling me. “Not that you needed it you had an O+ anyways. 5 points from Hufflepuff.”

I looked down at my desk, holding back tears. I couldn’t remember ever felling so ashamed in my life. Then again, I couldn’t remember anything. Emilia nudged me in the arm and passed me a note.

_Amy that’s great, you were an O+ student!_

She obviously didn’t understand my situation here. Snape was used to me acing those classes, and now I was probably going to fail. I looked up at Emilia who was perssently answering one of Snapes questions. I could tell it was wrong because of the facial expressions of the other students in the classroom.

“Wonderful, Ms. Seery. Excellent try. 10 points to Slytherin.” Snape said.

Emilia beamed at me, then nudged me encouragingly I sighed, put my head in my hands took a deep breath, and decided to move on from the moment. I could already tell it was going to be a long year.

* * *

It was the last class of the day, My first day, I thought as I walked up to a ladder that was surrounded by students from all houses. I decided to remain silent rather than reveal my ignorance by joining in the conversations circling around the crowd.

“Bonjour, mon amie,” a voice, sweet as a nightingale, said behind me, breaking my reverie. Lo and behold, it was Imogen. From the sparkle in her eye and the bob in her hair (now in plaits), I could tell she was definitely planning to make mischief.

“What do you think, about the school and all? Say, did you forget all our secret meeting spots, too, like behind that one-eyed witch on the seventh floor, and under that secret trap door in the abandoned – ”

“Be quiet!” I hissed, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Didn’t you just say they were secret?”

“So-orry,” she sighed. “But what do you think?”

I shrugged. “I don’t remember the school, but I guess I like it. Wow, déjà vu!”

“Yep. Remember this class?”

“I think so.”

“You should,” she replied, penetrating me with her brilliant grey eyes. “This was your best class, even though you hated it.”

With that, I noticed an opening in the crowd. Looking up, I realized the trap door was open and the students were on their way in. Heading into the throng, I discovered Imogen up to her old tricks. One hand was poised over a Gryffindor prefect’s shoulder and the other was carefully sliding a diamond earring out of her ear. I rolled my eyes, and concealed my smirk as I climbed up the ladder.

“I’m a bit out of practice,” Imogen whispered to me furtively as we chose seats in the back corner of the room, by the windows. I noticed the prefect peering about in a dazed way, and smiled to myself.

“Why did I hate this class?” I asked. “Oh, it reeks in here!”

“That’s one of the reasons,” Imogen agreed. “The perfume, you said you were Vaseline ri… ri…”

“Vasomotor rhinitis allergic?” I asked wearily. I had only been with her for a few moments and I was already tired.

“Yes! Vaseline rhinoceros!” Imogen sang in a loud falsetto. I shushed her before I let her continue: “Also, you get O’s in this class even though you never do anything to get them… you’re a natural!” She leapt up and sat on the table, leaning backwards and forming an arch with her body.

“It’s not gymnastics class,” I told her wryly.

“What?” she said curiously.

“Nothing.”

“You’re weird,” she replied with a shake of her head. But she returned to her seat as I suggested.

Slumping in my chair, I quickly organized the mess on the table into a recognizable pattern. This was the only place I had felt a connection to so far, and I hadn’t even felt anything in the dorm room or to any of the teachers. Sliding my fingers across the wood, worn smooth, they suddenly slipped into a notch in the mahogany table. I scrutinized it suspiciously, running my fingers repeatedly over the thin slit.

“Good afternoon, class, as I predicted, you have all assembled in my classroom today,” Professor Trelawney began in her singular misty voice. I heard a few boys scoff before she continued: “Would you please take out your copies of Unfogging the Future and turn to page twenty nine? We will be working with crystal balls today. Wands away, now!” This last remark was directed towards a boy two seats away from us, who was trying to curse his crystal ball.

I suppose Trelawney must have rambled off for some time, but I was distracted by Imogen. She was trying to stick her wand in the notch, doing who knows what.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I demanded, snatching her wand away. “Do you want to blow something up?”

“Your psychic powers must have been dulled,” she retorted, “if you can’t tell that there is something under the wood of this table. We would have to pry open the loose wood right here, which I had been doing, to find the glowing thing underneath. Which is why you have to use the notch.”

I stared at her disbelievingly. This was Imogen, the sweet faced girl who couldn’t stop talking? The childish one who stole earrings from prefects? But my amazement was dispelled by what she did next.

“Stupid wood,” she muttered angrily, snatching her wand back from me and attempting to hex the table open.

“God,” I sighed, “she didn’t change after all.”

A long slim shadow suddenly loomed over us, blocking the light. I nearly mistook it for a giant praying mantis and jerked back, but then realized it was just Professor Trelawney.

“Hi, Professor,” I started to stammer, wondering if she had seen us vandalizing the table. But she didn’t pay me any mind and just slapped down some tarot cards.

“You know what to do. This year isn’t any different from last year. You don’t interfere with my Inner Eye, and I won’t interfere with your ‘psychic ability.’ Do what you want.” She waved a hand and left.

“What was that?” I asked warily, knowing full well this was not how teachers were to treat students.

Imogen shrugged. “She knows you’re better than she is, is all,” she said bluntly, surprising me again.

I could already see that I wasn’t going to learn anything here. It was a wasted class period, but at least I wouldn’t have to work for a good grade. Trelawney left Imogen and I to do as we pleased and continued pestering the rest of the class. Which, for us, meant we could combine forces on the persistent notch.

“The pressure point would be here, where there would be a screw, but unfortunately, I can’t see anything of the sort. If it was just a slat of wood lying in its fitted hole, we would never be able to get it open in the way we have been, simply because it is squeezed in so tightly. The only way, then, is to use this.” Imogen pulled out a seemingly normal pocketknife and began digging it into the wood, where the notch obviously was not.

“Stop!” I yelped, still a little bowled over by her sudden bouts of sound mind. “What are you doing?!”

She looked up with unreadable eyes. “Emilia, you lost your memory, didn’t you?”

“I thought we’d already established that.”

“Then trust me, and let me do this. I promise it will work.”

Sure enough, after carving a perfect rectangle into the table (at which I winced), I could see the beginnings of a trapdoor, not to mention strange glimmers at the cracks. Whatever was inside this table was struggling to get out. Finally, using the knife, Imogen pried open the wood and lifted it out carefully.

Inside was a cloth.

A red, nondescript, dusty cloth.

“A cloth,” she sighed, more than a little disappointed. She reached out to take it, or lift it, perhaps, to see if there was anything underneath. But something happened, too quickly for me to see it, and she jerked her hand back. I smelled smoke.

“Whoa, what happened?”

“Ahh, nothing,” Imogen told me, holding her hand away from me, behind her back. I could tell from her suddenly evasive attitude that something had happened.

“Let me try, then,” I said with a determined air, and reached out to touch the mysterious cloth. Several things happened at once now: I poised my hand over the cloth and nearly lifted it; Imogen shouted and grabbed my hand to stop me, and again, another small explosion of smoke.

This time, I saw what had happened to Imogen’s hand. Slightly red at the fingertips, it was emitting the smoke I smelled and saw earlier, and slightly sooty. She looked shaken, although none the worse off except for her fingers.

“If you hadn’t been so reckless, you wouldn’t have burnt fingers,” I said crossly, ignoring her slight whimpering.

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped back with a menacing scowl like I had never seen before.

Before she could stop me again, I grabbed the cloth off the table to find the most beautiful tarot cards I had ever seen underneath. They were no comparison to the battered deck that Trelawney had given me – they were wonderful. With silver angel-like wings on all four corners, the first card depicted a floating hooded woman in a long black cloak holding an orb of shining power out above her hands. Remembering how pictures could move in the wizarding world, I scrutinized it carefully and saw her bob up and down a little.

“Hey, here’s a note!” I cried with my discovery.

Imogen said nothing, but turned away from me, nursing her fingers and her crushed spirit. I read:

_Dear Lucky Recipient of This Note,_

_You have just gotten away with slightly burning fingers, courtesy to the curse that has been placed these tarot cards, called Everlasting Fire.  This fiery sensation will last for three days. If you attempt to touch the tarot cards again, blisters will appear on your face spelling out the word “thief” after twenty four hours. How can you prevent this? Give these cards to the headmaster, he will know what to do with them.  The said curse will be in effect even if something happens to me, but will not be in effect for myself (Emilia Seery), Amy Kuller, Greta Gage, or Leslie Mei. Remember, touch them barehanded, and…_

_Well, that’s all. Under the care of Leslie’s curse, I believe my tarot cards to be safe. I hope not to be proven wrong. At this moment, I have to capture a stupid teacher run wildly amok – but there now, Amy tells me not to call Lockhart the Loony brained that. Choose wisely, reader._

_Emilia_

I was baffled; I had known that something might have happened, so I had hidden my tarot cards? And I had Leslie curse them? I wrote a note to myself? What had happened, then, when I tried to capture Lockhart? Had I really been in danger? My brain was awhirl with questions, spinning around in a hopeless tangle. It wasn’t until class was over that I was jolted out of my thoughts and left the room for the Great Hall with the rest of the students, and it wasn’t until I told Amy, Greta, and Leslie about the incident that I realized Imogen was nowhere to be seen.


End file.
